Going Home
by FantasyTree
Summary: After Camlann there was a lot of people left in Camelot, wondering what to do next and waiting for people who might never come home.


**Going to hide in cupboard of feels after this so here you go. As always any feedback is greatly appreciated so take a minute or two to tell me what you thought and make my day.**

**Disclaimer - Not mine... yet!**

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><p>It was raining. A single figure wove his way through the trees, stumbling over every tree root and staggering against every trunk. The forest floor was a sea of mud, and it covered the man's boots as he walked, sucking down each step and releasing it with a loud squelch. His head was down, his raven hair plastered to his neck and scalp. Water was dripping down his face, down his arms and down his legs, but the man didn't seem to care. Merlin carried on walking.<p>

...

Gaius was worried. Not an unusual occurrence, having Merlin in one's life did lead to a certain amount of stress and concern. But this was different. It was not his wards life he worried for, but what state of mind he would return in if he failed. He knew Merlin, better then even he sometimes liked to admit. The boy was kind, far to kind, and loyal, almost to a fault, with an unfortunate habit of twisting things every which way until he found a way to blame himself for everything.

Gaius sighed, he watched the candle in front of him, the flame flickering and dancing, melting away until soon there would be nothing left. It was far too late and he was far too old to be worrying so much.

A knock on the door interrupted his dark thoughts. Heaving himself up from the small table, Gaius traversed the clutter in the room with practiced ease. The door opened with a creak, and he came face to face with the only other person in this castle who was as worried as he.

Gwen was pale. Her eyes were red rimmed and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. But whatever emotion she had displayed earlier was gone, her face was blank and regal, her eyes quite dry.

"My Lady," Gaius bowed slightly, moving backwards to allow her into the room. She moved to the table, sitting in the seat that Merlin so often frequented and Gaius settled back into the chair he had so recently discarded.

Silence reined, each lost in thoughts far away from this little room. Gaius could remember all the times Gwen had been here before, helping him tend to his various patients. She had loved to learn, and helping people always seemed to make her so happy. He had been so willing to share everything he knew with her, teaching her about the various herbs and potions that would heal almost anything. They had healed so many people, Arthur and Merlin had been their most frequent visitors naturally and even Morgana, before everything had gone so wrong.

That all seemed like a far off dream now. Gwen had become Queen, and she no longer had time to learn anything at all. Morgana was gone, as good as dead to all who knew her. And now Arthur was out there somewhere, dead or dying. And Merlin was trying to keep everything from crumbling at his feet yet again. And they were two people, sat at a small rickety table, watching the candle burn away to nothing.

...

Merlin trudged on through the pouring rain.

...

It was early; the morning sun was just peaking over the horizon, bathing Camelot and its subjects in a weak golden light. The birds were chirping happily and the townsfolk, though still sleeping, were doing so peacefully. To the three knights stretched out on the keep steps however, it was to calm and to quiet. Especially when they themselves were feeling so very empty and hopeless. They sat in silence.

Leon watched his brothers, unable, for the first time since knowing them, to think of a single thing to say. Elyan sat, his head in his hands breathing in and out steadily. Percival had been staring at the same spot across the deserted courtyard, for hours. Leon didn't think he'd ever felt so separated from them before.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever, with none of their usual banter or laughter to chase away the deathly cold it brought.

They avoided each others gaze, to ashamed, to worried, to heartbroken in themselves, to risk seeing it reflected back from their brother's eyes.

"I could have stopped it." Percival spoke so quietly that the other barely heard it.

"Percival…" Leon tried to say something comforting, but nothing came to mind.

"I could have. If I'd been quicker – "

"Stop it!" Elyan's voice was harsh; he glared up at the bigger knight. "You couldn't have done anything, none of us could have, we did everything we were supposed to do, everything we could do. Things just, didn't work out. But don't make their deaths about your guilt." They trailed off into silence again.

It was broken several minutes later by Percival.

"Sorry." Elyan nodded his head in silent acceptance.

"Merlin has him." Leon said, concentrating on the only thing, that one thing that might turn out okay. "He's never let him down before."

"Merlin's not invincible." Percival said, "Lancelot used to tell me that all the time."

"But he is brave."

"Braver then us." They lapsed back into silence for a while.

"So," Leon wasn't sure he wanted to ask, but eventually someone would have to. "What do we do now?"

"I guess we do what we always do." Elyan said, looking up at the sky. "We rebuild."

"With what?" Leon could feel a lump in his throat that he most certainly didn't like.

"What ever we can, there must be something." Elyan's words didn't hold much hope.

"There will be." Percival seemed to dare the world to defy him, he to looked at the sky, it was threatening rain." "There's always something."

"What kind of something?" Leon asked.

"Something to protect."

"Something to die for."

Leon gave his brothers the smallest of smiles, "someone to die for." They smiled back as the first drop of rain fell to the ground.

...

Merlin fell, pulled himself back up and carried on.

...

Gwen stood by the window in their chamber, watching the rain pelt against the glass. She watched as three indistinctive figures picked themselves up from the keep steps and hurried into the castle. She didn't jump when the lightening flashed in the distance or react when the thunder crashed overhead.

She knew she was a mess.

Letting herself fall apart like she was, was not the royal thing to do. She needed to be stronger then that. But the nights were hardest. Not knowing if her husband was still breathing out there somewhere was harder then anything. And that Merlin could possibly be out there all alone broke her heart all over again.

She dragged herself away from the window when the rain became too heavy to see through. She poked at the fire, encouraging it to grow bigger, but she didn't really feel its warmth.

She had faith in Merlin of course, she always had. He'd never let her down before and she was certain that he would do everything in his power not to this time. But she also knew that he had limits, every man did, and she knew that Merlin was so past his. Years of endless, tireless, thankless work. She didn't understand it, and could only hope she would have the chance to.

That was the other fear that flitted uncertainly in the back of her mind. If Arthur died, if Merlin failed, would she ever see him again? Could she lose them both in one go? Could she live with that?

She tried to banish the thoughts but they hung there resolutely, allowing no room for anything else. It was late, but she loathed to go to bed. The night before she had only managed a few hours, laying there in the dark with her thoughts eating away at her. After that she had fled to Gaius' chambers, hoping the man would have words of comfort for her, or something at least. He'd looked so old and so tired when she'd got there however, that she didn't ask him for anything.

The thunder echoed strangely in the castle, reverberating down the long empty corridors. During her first storm living in the castle she'd been unable to sleep due to the noise. She'd been scared, but she would never have admitted it. Arthur seemed to know though; he'd pulled her close and held her there all night, simply smiling into her hair when she'd asked what he was doing. Merlin had come during that night to, bringing extra blankets. Gwen remembered that after he had left the sound of the thunder had seemed to dim somewhat. Now she wondered if that had really been a coincidence. When she'd woken the next morning, the pair of them had been talking quietly, Merlin serving breakfast and Arthur looking over some important looking papers.

There had been a million mornings when she would wake up to the two of them. Polishing armour, cleaning up, signing papers or getting dressed. Talking, bantering, arguing. Now she would trade them all for just one more.

The knock at the door coincided with a loud crash from the thunder above, so she didn't notice it at first. But the second time she did.

She went to open it, wondering who on earth would want anything from her this late and planning a good rant to hurl at them.

All words failed her when she opened the door.

The man was pale, and dripping wet. His hair was flopping over his forehead, letting water trickle down his face. His clothes hung loosely, as though he'd lost more weight then he could afford to. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy. He looked gaunt, sickly and broken.

That tiny piece of hope, in the very corner of Gwen's heart shrivelled up and died.

Merlin fell to the ground at her feet.


End file.
